Let the Broken Pieces Go
by Montana-Rosalie
Summary: Killian gets his hand back. Emma is the one who has to take it away when it starts misbehaving.


**I was hit with feels yesterday so I just had to get them out before the new episode airs, and I hope you'll enjoy them before the show makes us all die in a few hours. FoF update tomorrow, and until them, have a lot of angst.  
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><p>„I've got magic, he's got one hand", Emma had said, and Killian had done his best to appear unaffected even though his stomach clenched and his heart burned with the acid of her words. Still, he even managed to shoot back a half-decent retort, and then proceeded to follow her out of the hospital and to Zelena's house.<p>

If it was the Prince, or any other citizen of Storybrooke who had said those words, Killian would have let them roll off him like so much as rainwater on a stormy night because he knows how much he's worth and that he can do anything even without a hand, but it was Emma, it was the woman who came to mean the world to him, the woman who made him want to change, give up his revenge and live for something brighter, care more for somebody else than himself.

He'd given up his home for her and he's do it all over again in a heartbeat just for the privilege to see her smile once more, but that doesn't lessen the sting of her words; it only amplifies the pain.

_I've got magic, he's got one hand._

It rings in his head over and over again until it drowns out everything else, especially late at night when he lies in his bed at Granny's, covered in flowery blankets and with a pristine white pillowcase under his head, his thumb tracing the jagged edges of his scars. He tells himself that Emma doesn't really view him as less because of his missing hand, tells himself that she had said it just to stop him from coming with her, but his ability to read her like an open book isn't worth much when it comes to the subject of his hand.

Killian plays the role of a cocky pirate well, but Emma had always been able to see right through all his defenses; it also gives her the power to hurt him, and hurt him she does.

He loves her so much that he had forgiven her the second the words were out, but he's unable to forget.

He hopes he had never and will never say anything so hurtful to her even if it's in the heat of the moment.

After their trip to the past and the subsequent kiss in front of the Diner, so much happens that Killian doesn't have time to linger on the words that are still rattling away at the back of his mind until the moment he's got Emma safely wrapped in his arm and her hand comes to rest against his brace. He's acutely aware of the way her thumb brushes against his coat, and he would swear that he can feel the touch of her hand even through two layers of heavy black leather even though it's impossible.

He wonders if Emma even remembers what she had said, or if the way she's touching him now is some sort of a silent apology for her harsh words.

Killian ducks his head and kisses the crown of her silky hair, inhaling her scent and letting it soothe him, his heart stuttering in his chest when he remembers how close he'd come to losing her.

Emma removes her hand from his arm and tucks herself closer to his chest, making him wish he could hold her hand again, but with his good arm wrapped around her, he doesn't have anything to offer her but the cold steel of his hook, and in her current frozen state, something cold is the last thing she needs.

The Prince and Elsa move away into the kitchen with Emma's mother and brother and son, and Killian closes his eyes, ignoring his aching knee and gently rubbing Emma's back, unable to stop thanking his lucky stars for delivering her back safely to her family and into his arms.

He knows none of them would be able to bear losing her.

"Are you okay?" Emma mumbles against his chest, and it's only because he's so acutely aware of people coming anywhere near his left arm that he notices her slowly slipping her hand underneath the sleeve of first his coat, then his shirt. He doesn't dare move as Emma's fingers dance over his brace before her palm comes to rest against the inside of his elbow, her thumb caressing his bicep. "Killian?"

Emma tilts her head back to look up at him and her green eyes are so open he can't help but relax even though the way she's touching him is making him wary, his soul aching for all that he had lost and all the things he won't be able to give her.

"Aye, I'm okay", he tells her, his eyes caressing her face until she nods to herself and settles down again with her head against his shoulder.

Her hand remains underneath his sleeves, her forearm pressing against his soothing to them both.

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><p>Emma marches into Granny's a week later and asks him out on a date.<p>

He says yes without a moment of hesitation and Emma's relief is so evident he wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her right there in view of what feels like half the town.

She lets him, and she gives him a brilliant smile as she walks out, the spring in her step impossible to miss. It's only when she's gone and he's had his head filled with a hundred things Ruby thinks he should know before the date that it really occurs to him what he'd agreed to; tonight might end with Emma wanting more than just a kiss goodnight, and all his joyful anticipation abruptly becomes apprehension, dread filling his gut because he knows he won't be able to deny her anything.

It was easy falling in love with Emma, and even easier to chase after her across realms; he never had enough time to stop and think what catching her would entail.

Or maybe he didn't want to think about it.

_I've got magic, he's got one hand._

The words come back to haunt him again as he stands underneath the showerhead, water rattling in the ancient pipes of Granny's B&B, and Killian makes himself look down, trying to examine his stump with a clinical eye, trying to see what somebody unused to his scars would see.

Trying to see what Emma would see if they were to take their relationship to the next level.

Killian averts his eyes after just a few moments because there is no way and no angle that would make anybody look at the scarred ruin of his arm and see anything but future nightmares.

He had dreamed about wrapping Emma in his arms and making love to her a million times during the year they were apart, but now that it's inevitable that he's going to get a chance to do exactly that, he's deathly afraid, his mind whirling with all the possible outcomes.

The scholarly Lieutenant in him can't help calculating the odds of Emma accepting him in all his wrecked glory as opposed to the other painful outcomes and comes up with one to five at best.

When the Dark One warns him against reattaching his hand, Killian doesn't let himself think, tuning out the alarm bell that's going on in his head because even though he knows that magic always comes with a price, his only alternative is risking Emma's rejection, and that's something he just can't take, not after everything that's happened and everything he'd sacrificed to break through her walls.

After their dinner date, as he's walking Emma home with her hand tucked into his, she tells him that she didn't mind his hook, that she even kind of liked it, but nothing in the world was ever sweeter than cupping her cheeks with both hands and kissing her goodnight, feeling her smooth skin underneath his fingertips and holding her without worrying if he's going to accidentally hurt her or if she's going to hurt him with a few misplaced words.

The night doesn't end with them in bed, but Killian still doesn't regret his decision even though he can't explain his murderous rage at Will Scarlet that led to punching him in the face just for spilling a drink over Emma's dress.

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><p>A week passes, and the changes in Killian become too great to deny and as he sits in the prison cell at the Sheriff's station, Killian realizes that the only way his decline into a person he doesn't want to be is going to stop is if he comes clean and asks Emma to take away his hand.<p>

The very thought makes him break out in cold sweat, but when he asks himself if he'd rather lose Emma or his hand, the panic diffuses a little and he finds the strength he needs to tell her everything, to lie all his insecurities at her feet and even manage a small smile when she says she's not sure if she can do it.

"You must, love. There's nobody I trust more than you", he tells her and she's quiet for a while, then enters the cell and sinks down on the cot next to him, her hands reaching for his corrupt one and holding it gently, fingers caressing his skin in a motion she's not even aware of.

"I wish you had told me all this before going to Gold", she murmurs, and he finds himself unable to meet her gaze. "I would've told you that it doesn't matter to me how many hands you have. It had never mattered to me because of who you are, because of the way I feel when you're around, because I've never felt safer than I do when I'm in your arms."

Killian's throat is too tight for him to speak, so he just nods and meets her eyes, trying to tell her without words how much this means to him and at the same time despairing because she still doesn't get the depth of his fear.

It seems like he won't have a choice but to face that fear head on.

"I'm sorry for what I've said in the hospital", she tells him, her thumb tracing over his knuckles, the bruises faint now, but still visible to those who know what to look for. "I wanted to be alone and I thought I had a chance of stopping you from coming if I brought up your hand… I should've known that you'd still go with me no matter what I said and avoid hurting you."

"You only said the truth", Killian murmurs, watching Emma's slender fingers tracing the lines on his palm and swallowing a lump in his throat because this is the first and last time she's doing so. "You have magic, I have one hand."

"You're much more than your hand", Emma tells him and presses her thumb against the center of his palm, then turns his hand over and brushes her fingers against the thin line that marks the place where it was reunited with his arm. "And I'm not going to love you any less without it."

Killian blinks, certain that he hasn't heard her right, that it was just his imagination conjuring the words he hadn't expected to hear so soon into their relationship, but one look into Emma's eyes shows him that he'd heard right and that she had meant what she said.

"Take it away, my love", he tells her, and his smile is genuine because somehow she made him unafraid, somehow she had convinced him that he's enough as he is, even if he only has one hand and one hook to hold her with.

Emma takes his hands in hers and leads them to her cheeks, then closes her eyes as he leans in to kiss her, memorizing the bittersweet beauty of this moment and focusing on the good instead of the bad.

After all, if his crocodile hadn't kept the hand, he never would've had the chance to hold her like this.

When his hand comes off again, the pain Killian feels is more emotional than physical, and as soon as he opens his eyes and sees the smoothness of his new stump he realizes it's wrong for it to look like this, all the scars that used to cover it gone because Emma had made it so.

"Swan, can I ask you for one more favor?" He speaks before he changes his mind, and Emma nods mutely, her fingers caressing his skin as she waits for him to tell her what he wants. "Can you put the scars back? I wouldn't be the man I am without them, and right now I feel like a fraud."

Emma smiles to herself and closes her eyes, her fingers tracing patters on his skin, marring the stump with scars that for the first time don't look ugly to him.

When she's finished, she leans down and presses a kiss against the very end of his arm, then leads Killian out of the cell, her free hand still holding his severed one.

"What are we going to do with it?" Killian asks and watches her put it in a box she'd brought her pastries in earlier today. The pastries are long gone, and Emma closes the lid, shrugging as she puts it in the lowest drawer of her desk, the same one he had once found his hook in.

"You can decide on that tomorrow, but tonight, I'm taking you home."

"Isn't it a custom for a detainee to spend a night in jail?" Killian asks with a lift of his eyebrow as he wrestles his brace back on his arm, the click of his hook sliding in making him feel infinitely better.

It's funny, but somehow, he suddenly feels whole.

"Usually, yeah", Emma says and locks the drawer, then puts on her jacket and tips her head toward the door. "I'm willing to make an exception because of what you've just been through."

"And because you love me?" Killian teases and Emma blushes, rolling her eyes as she tugs on his hand and flips the switch, shrouding the station in darkness.

"Don't push it, pirate."

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><p>Emma walks with Killian to the B&amp;B, then follows him up the rickety stairs to his room, silently waiting while he fumbles with the key. She's making him nervous but he smiles because there really isn't any reason for that anymore, and he feels foolish for causing such commotion over something that doesn't bother his Swan at all.<p>

He should've known, but he guesses it would've taken a better man than he ultimately is not to react the way he did.

"Aren't you gonna invite me in?" Emma asks when he finally opens the door and hovers in the doorway, and Killian can't quite keep the surprise form his face. "Oh come on. Like I'd let you sleep alone tonight."

"You're welcome to stay, love", Killian tells her and steps aside to let her in, his heart tripping in his chest when it really downs on him what she had just said.

They are going to share a bed, and whether they make love or just sleep in it doesn't make much difference to him because tonight, all he wants to do is hold her any way she likes.

Emma opens his closet and finds one of the outfits Ruby had told him people in this realm sleep in, consisting of a shirt with short sleeves and soft pants, and it's amusing to him that she's suddenly shy, darting a look over her shoulder before she takes her loot to the bathroom to change away from his hungry eyes.

Killian does the same in the room and hesitates a moment before he takes off his hook, lying it on the table in the corner along with his brace before he slips under the covers.

His body relaxes into the mattress as he waits until Emma emerges from the bathroom, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes that she'd left the pants behind and only put on the shirt that barely comes to the middle of her thighs.

Emma tiptoes across the carpet and dives on the bed, rocking it as she wiggles under the covers and making him chuckle at her antics.

"What?" She asks, a smile lingering on her lips when she turns on her side and faces him, her hands bunched under her head.

"Nothing", he murmurs and tentatively scoots closer, slowly sliding his bad arm under her shoulders and pulling her closer with his hand against the small of her back, only allowing himself to breathe when Emma snuggles into him and wraps her arm around his waist.

"This is nice", she says softly and nudges her nose against the hollow of his throat, her hips pressing against his and making him realize that he won't get much sleep tonight if she keeps doing that.

He won't care if he doesn't sleep a wink as long as she remains where she is.

"You smell good."

"Do I?"

"Uh-huh", she murmurs and slips her leg between his, then abruptly turns around and hugs his bad arm to her chest.

He grows tense instantly, and it's such sweet torture to bear the caress of her fingers against the patchwork of his scars; he doesn't think he'd never loved her more than he does now because he needed this, needed to see and feel for himself that Emma doesn't mind his shortcomings.

"There's beauty in the patterns of your scars", Emma says softly and Killian is speechless, stunned that she would see beauty where he had only ever saw ugliness.

But then again, she loves him, so she's biased, and that's okay with him, tension seeping from his muscles gradually as he gets used to somebody else touching what had only been touched by his own hand.

He's acutely aware of every slide of her fingers against the valleys and peeks of his skin, and it touches him deeper than anything else had in his long, long life.

"It used to look worse than it does now", he tells her and feels her shake her head in the dark, her hair tickling him as she presses herself closer to him and wraps both his arms around her middle.

"Only in your eyes", Emma says and shifts a little to press a kiss against his bicep, her fingers still caressing his stump, the even sound of her breathing putting him to sleep.

It's been a long couple of days, but it was worth it just for this moment, just for the miracle of finally having her in his arms.

It's better than anything he'd ever dreamed up.

"I love you", he whispers, needing to tell her before he goes under and undoubtedly wakes up to some manner of crisis.

"I know", Emma says and then he's drifting, holding her close and hoping that he never has to let her go again.

Even half-asleep, he still hears her when she tells him that she loves him too.

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